A Small Price to Pay
by Kyootulu
Summary: PREQUEL: While Bann Teagan and Arlessa Isolde wait for Elissa's decision, an angry Alistair confronts his commander regarding the possible consideration of a blood magic ritual at the expense of the arlessa's life. This takes place before For A Change.


**A SMALL PRICE TO PAY**

She can't be serious.

The moment I heard the words come out of her mouth, that she needed some time to think about it, I scarcely heard the rest. Did she even think about what she was saying? What she was implying by the barest hint of indecision? I stared after her as she left the room, incredulous, her scarlet-haired head moving until it disappeared down the hall.

I couldn't believe it. My hackles were up just by having the Maleficar in the room, and to hear him suggest what he did was just.... I never felt so furious in a long time. The Arlessa might be many things, she may have been wrong about what she did, but to suggest sacrificing herself in a blood magic ritual? I tore my gaze away from the sight of our retreating commander, my gaze locking on Bann Teagan, the Lady Isolde, and Jowan.

"You all can't be seriously considering this," I said flatly. I rounded on the Arlessa, then. "What are we supposed to tell your husband when he awakens to find you dead? You can't...you can't do this to him."

Isolde looked away from me, then. "I am Connor's mother," she whispered. "My husband will understand."

Wynne was particularly attentive to my distress. "Alistair..." she began, but I was already twisting on my heel to follow.

"I'll be right back," I growled in her general direction.

She didn't stop me, thankfully, otherwise I would have done or said something I'd probably regret later. I'd have to give her flowers, or some good tea, whatever proper old ladies liked these days. Then again, out of all of us, Wynne would be the most sympathetic to my feelings regarding blood magic, an art whose principles lay within the darkest facets of human nature. In my mind, using it was not an option. It can't be an option. Regulations, orders, these rules were placed for a reason. I don't care if it made things easier or more convenient, even when facing the greatest crisis of our lifetimes, some things were beyond redemption. There were some things that, no matter how desperate circumstances are, just weren't done.

I found Elissa easily, at the second floor, leaning her shoulder against one of the window sills as she looked at the view overlooking Redcliffe village. Perhaps I shut the door a little more vehemently than I intended, but she jerked her head upwards, surprise in her eyes as I stalked towards her.

"Alistair?"

"You can't make her go through with it," I began without preamble, stopping in front of her.

Elissa's dark eyes roved over my angry features. "She offered her life willingly," she pointed out. "The Circle's tower is days away. There's a demon running loose in the castle that has the ability to call up more walking dead, with Arl Eamonn incapacitated and imprisoned by its whims."

All good points, from a command point of view. It was one of the many reasons why she was leading us instead of I. She looked at the big picture, while I mostly concentrated on the now. Despite her accurate assessment, however, I shook my head, and swept my hand to the side. "It's blood magic, Elissa," I ground out. "If we stooped on the same levels as our enemies did, would anything truly be better once this is over? What are we going to tell the Arl once we cure him with the ashes we found? The decision will fall on your head, you know that. Not only are you considering giving up an arlessa's life to purge a demon but you're also risking the very fact that Arl Eamonn might get so ludicrously angry we'll lose our only chance of support with the nobles and against Loghain altogether! Or did you forget that?"

I couldn't help the bit of venom seeping in my tone. She heard it clearly, I saw her expression change from fatigued, weary from the day's events, to something harder and more unforgiving. "No," she said flatly, pushing off the window and rounding to look me in the eye. "I didn't. I also didn't forget the fact that if we left the castle for days and returned with the requisite amount of mages, everyone in this bloody place might be dead. Does that serve our purpose any? Does it?"

Her jaw hardened. In other days I would feel bad. I knew the kind of pressure she was under, the burden she was carrying. On top of leading the charge against the Blight, she had to make all the more difficult decisions, keep some semblance of peace between individuals so disparate, sometimes it was impossible.

I held my ground, however. There was no way I would concede to that. Not with the conditions of this course of action. Not with what was at stake.

"Going through the blood ritual is wrong, Elissa," I forced through clenched teeth. "And you know it."

"I know that," she fired back. I roused her temper, it was clear by the way her cheekbones started flaring with a heightened color. She was too fair-skinned for me not to notice, all the stereotypes I've heard before about redheaded women suddenly coming into play. "I'm not an idiot, Alistair."

Our gazes locked like bulls' horns. I felt my fingers clench on the side of me, tightly, feeling blood draw back until my knuckles were bone-white. I don't know how long it lasted, but I finally forced myself to turn away from her. "If you agree to this," I said, my tone so low and guttural, I scarcely recognized it as mine. "I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive you."

I heard her draw a breath. When I glanced at her sideways, I saw her straighten herself up to her full height. Despite the break in gazes, she never once looked away from me, her features tight over the delicate bones that constructed her face.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," she said, and no matter how bright her irises were with anger, her voice was cool. Wintry, even. "But so long as you continue to aid and pull your weight with the rest, I don't give a damn whether you do. Whatever I decide will be what I deem best for the objectives at hand. This is the duty the rest of you have elected me to undertake and I hope that you haven't forgotten that."

Her words stung, despite the fact that I was the one who came in as the aggressor. I met her eyes for a moment, and without another word, I departed the room, slamming the door behind me.

She returned in the main hall an hour after I did, her expression indescribable. I could scarcely look at her, focusing my gaze on Bann Teagan and the Arlessa. It may be the last I'd see of the Lady Isolde, after all. While our relations with one another weren't the best when I was growing up, that didn't mean I wished for her to die and leave a man I respected utterly bereft. I didn't care if this was a mother's prerogative, to give her life for the sake of her child, but there were other options and by the Maker, we should use them.

"Warden," Bann Teagan greeted, turning to face Elissa as she reemerged and I was forced to acknowledge her presence. "Have you decided? What do you think we should do?"

She didn't so much as glance at me. I steeled myself for yet another decision I wouldn't like.

"We'll ask the Circle for help," Elissa replied, startling me out of my anger enough that I couldn't help but stare at her. "We recently resolved a significant problem for them in the Tower. They owe me a favor."

Teagan and Isolde looked at each other. I shut my open mouth with a click.

"Do you think you'll get here in time?" Isolde fretted, her hands wringing over one another. "The Tower is days away, and things here are such a mess..."

"More people will die, the longer we wait," Teagan replied, his voice heavy.

"That won't happen," Elissa said firmly, conviction branded in every word. "The rest of my party will stay here and help keep things in order, neutralize any threats. I'd like to borrow a horse, if you can spare me one, my lady. I'll be able to go faster if I were traveling on my own and with some kind of transportation aside from my two legs."

I was still reeling from the shock, especially with how our confrontation upstairs went. Her words quickly yanked me away from it, however, akin to a bucket full of cold water thrown at my face.

"Alone?" My voice was anything but disapproving, or chastising. I hated how it sounded so....

She ignored me, and turned to Wynne. "You'll keep them in line, won't you?" she asked, her voice a little gentler than it had been a few moments prior.

"Of course," Wynne replied, approval hinted at the bent of her mouth.

"If that's all you need, we can certainly provide it," Teagan replied, gratitude evident as he looked at my fellow Warden. "Thank you, Warden."

"Good. I'll leave at once." I saw her flash a more reassuring look towards Isolde. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Before I was able to get another word out, she was walking out of the hall again, to the courtyard. I ground my teeth together, and looked over at Wynne, whose brows were lifted at me expectantly.

"What?"

"Alistair," she sighed, exasperated and, strangely, amused. "What are you waiting for?"

She was right. We were assured constantly since arriving that there were no Darkspawn here, not yet, anyway. We received word that they were venturing into Ferelden from the south, and Redcliffe was to the far west. We didn't have to worry about them battering down the gates for a while. I picked up my feet, turning to follow Elissa's path towards the courtyard.

* * *

She was in the stables when I finally caught up with her, already throwing her things and her pack on the creature's rump. I closed the door loudly enough to catch her attention, enough for her to look up and know that I was in the room. I might as well not be, however, for the moment she saw me, she turned back to what she was doing.

Maker's breath, were women ever easy to deal with?

"The side roads always have a few Darkspawn stragglers," I said, moving towards her. "You shouldn't go alone."

"You're needed here," she replied, tersely. At least she wasn't giving me the silent treatment. "Wynne's no combatant."

"She has a sorceress, an archer, a sneaky elf that kills people for a living, and a giant," I replied, careful to keep irritation from my voice. "Throw in your fluffy puppy with a jaw that can take a man's leg off, I think she's covered."

She said nothing after that, busily tightening the straps of the saddle she had slid onto the horse's back. She was wordless, still, when she turned around, and angled her body to slip past me with every intent to get to the bridle rack despite what I was saying. My body moved, before I was even thinking about it, my hand grasping her elbow and turning to force her sideways against the wall of the stall. My free hand pressed into the space to the side of her head to block her from going anywhere. It wasn't as if I threw her there, no matter how incensed I had been earlier, or could get, I would never, ever hurt her. I was careful, my grip was gentle and I knew the right amount of pressure to get her to change direction.

Anger flashed dangerously in her eyes. I probably had only seconds to live if I didn't say something fast.

"I'm sorry."

....and in those very words, I've proven anyone who's ever claimed that my sense of survival was terribly dysfunctional wrong.

My heart sank when she averted her gaze away from me completely.

I ducked my head, lowering my voice. "I was angry," I murmured. As if that hadn't been obvious. "I was so certain you were going with the ritual that I lost it. I know the every day is harder for you than the rest of us. It's always more difficult to lead than it is to follow. I didn't mean to imply that I wasn't conscious of it. I give thanks to the Maker every day that you stepped up instead of me." I chewed on my bottom lip. "I should've...been more...diplomatic. When I went to find you."

Her swallow was soft, but audible. I saw the shadows of the dimly-lit room pool into the space at the shallow dip of her collarbones, the space carved out under her jaw; a place, I decided, that could lure any man into the brink of several unwise decisions. I couldn't help but let my eyes wander. As inexperienced as I was, I was still male. I was no exception to the myriads of men and women who have mentioned something about her looks during our travels together.

She finally turned her head to meet my eyes. "I don't have the luxury of making lawful decisions all the time, Alistair," she said quietly. "I can only do my best to make the right ones."

"I know." I sighed. "Between you and I, though, you're rather capable at reconciling both."

The sharpness of her expression softened. Her lips grew pliant, the faint hint of light within the room reflecting off their dewy sheen. I didn't know where it came from, this sudden urge to dip my head and claim them. The air was suddenly thick, and a dull cramp twisted somewhere inside my chest, but all my attention was on her mouth and all of its implied softness.

Her lashes lowered, but our gazes held. It was as if the world paused, and waited with bated breath. Her mouth parted and I almost didn't resist.

Almost.

Thankfully, she spoke. Hearing her was enough to dispell the sudden fog of want. She sighed heavily. "You were mostly right, anyway," she told me, grudgingly. "I have no right to decide who lives or dies when there's an option available where such a choice needn't be made. It just...needed some logistical tweaking, is all, to cover all our concerns. So...truce?"

"Truce," I affirmed, grinning down at her.

She returned the smile tentatively, and the sight of it caused the inexplicable tightness in my chest for the last two hours to loosen.

I cleared my throat, releasing her elbow and stepping away. "You know I'm still coming with you," I reminded, perking a single eyebrow at her. "I'm not exactly giving you a choice in the matter."

She sighed, at that. "Well, if you're coming with me, you better get a horse and fast. We don't have a lot of time."

We left at daybreak, working the horses full speed towards roads we were familiar with towards the home of the mages. We covered the ground we could during the day, and set up a small fire by night. Conversations were light, after such a tense confrontation, I couldn't blame her for being somewhat tentative, but I filled whatever silences there were with stories; how I used to have a huge cat that liked chasing pigeons, or about the time I locked myself in a cage, or how I tracked mud into Redcliffe Castle at a regular basis while I was a boy.

She humored me, through the days-long trek to the Tower. She laughed, threw quips of her own, and occasionally she would let something about herself slip, but never much. It was strange, how I knew so little of her, and yet found myself so drawn to her regardless of that lack of knowledge. It helped that she was attractive. It helped that she was smart. It was those surprising moments of humor in turn that I found the most engaging, however. I couldn't get enough of it. I suppose my lack of familiarity with her and her life was something to rectify later, but for now it was suffice to say I found myself terribly fascinated. It was a dangerous road, but one that I couldn't help but traverse upon to see where it leads.

I never minded playing the buffoon so long as I made someone laugh, and after the way I acted, fragments of my dignity were a small price to pay to hear her do so.

**FINIS**


End file.
